Allowances

There used to be a drugstore with a soda fountain on Darby Road near the intersection with West Chester Pike. It was about 3 blocks from our house, and that was where my sister and I spent our allowances. Or to be more precise - that's where I spent our allowances.

My parents were quite generous - every Friday we got $1.75 each (that's about $12 in 2010 dollars). Goodness knows we didn't do a darn thing to earn it... And every week it was the same ritual:
My sister Keg (who at that point was far too lazy to walk 3 blocks) would give me her allowance and a list of magazines to buy. I'd head off to the drugstore, spend a quarter on a fountain drink (the old guy behind the counter mixed a wicked cherry cola) then buy the magazines for my sister and 3 packs of Topps baseball cards for myself (five cards and a piece of stale bubblegum per nickel pack)... I charged my sister a quarter for doing her shopping for her. Given how embarrassing it was to be seen buying crap like "True Romance" and "16 Magazine" I should have gotten a lot more :-)
The rest of my allowance was stashed in my Japanese puzzle box. That box was my most prized possession (after my Stan Musial memorabilia). It was a relatively simple one (7 moves to open) but it had beautiful inlay and was just plain cool. And it's another one of things I never saw again after the divorce (along with all my baseball cards). But I digress...

Every year I saved $40 (that's $280 in 2010 currency) to spend on Christmas presents for the family. I got my mom a bottle of Chanel No. 5 ($115 today), my dad an expensive silk necktie, and whatever was left over I spent on my sister. BTW - I loved the way clerks reacted to me... I would walk up and tell them what I wanted and they'd give me their patronizing little "You know, that's very expensive" routine and I'd be all "Yeah - I'm aware" and pull out the cash... It was very gratifying. But I digress (again)...

My sister, on the other hand, was always broke and trying to con money out of me. (You know, that never did change.) By the time I was 9 I insisted on a signed and witnessed contract before doing business with her. (Yes, I was drafting contracts at that age...) After my dad passed away my stepmother found one of them among his papers and gave it to me. Dad must have considered it pretty amusing to have kept it for all those years :-) So - after I'm gone, if anyone finds a little hand written note dealing with a borrowed radio, that's what it was all about...

I did occasionally buy other things with my money - like the Beach Boys' first 6 albums. I took them to Germany with me - I couldn't survive without them. And I bought a lot of car models (started building those when I was 6), an occasional Mad magazine and a baseball mitt. Pretty much everything else my heart desired my parents bought for me.
Except for a go-kart... When I was 9 I asked my dad if I could have one and he said I was too young. I asked him when I'd be old enough and he said "In a couple of years". Of course, I contemplated that go-kart almost every day for the next 2 years and on my 11th birthday I asked my dad about it again and he said "No way". And I said "But you promised!" And he said "We've never discussed a go-kart before!" I was stunned!!! I'd waited patiently for years and he forgot all about it... So yeah - be careful what you say to your kids :-)

One final drugstore story:
When I joined scouts (yet another story) I got a pair of hiking boots. Nowadays people usually refer to them as waffle stompers but back in the day they were called clodhoppers. The first time I wore them I was heading to the drugstore with one of my friends and encountered a big clump of dirt next to the sidewalk. I said "Watch this! I'm going to hop over that clod with my clodhoppers!" and being unfamiliar with the handling characteristics of my new footwear I tripped and fell flat on my face... I had intended it to be funny, but not that funny :-)